


Abandoned Buildings and Hard-to-Reach Spaces

by gerblinsssss



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: (mainly from Sal’s dad), Also Mrs. Sanderson is in here because she doesn’t get nearly enough love, Also most of my OCs are just old ladies so don’t worry, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ash is sapphic!!, Canon Gay Relationship, Cults, Demons, Developing Friendships, Dreams and Nightmares, Fan Adventure, Ghosts, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Larry has undiagnosed ADHD, Larry is pan, No Smut, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SHIT GETS WEIRD, Sal has PTSD, Sal has weird prophetic dreams because yeah, Sal is bi, Spooky, Substance Abuse, This is gonna get angsty real quick, Todd and Neil are adorable and I love them, Todd can be a sassy motherfucker when he wants, and Other Ghastly Ghouls, dark themes, hes still nice in this fic though, maybe a little canon divergent but only if I decide to add a non-canon ship in here, no oc x canon here, none of the ghost nabbers die dw, this takes place during the summer before their junior year, wholesome friendships, writing as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerblinsssss/pseuds/gerblinsssss
Summary: Sal’s dreams are getting weird. And not the normal weird. Jim’s trying to tell him something, and he just can’t put his finger on what. Cult activity, new faces, and fucked up happenings ensue. Shit’s about to go down.
Relationships: Chug/Maple (Sally Face), Todd Morrison/Neil
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Abandoned Buildings and Hard-to-Reach Spaces

It’s a bland, dreary day. Like most. Sal is in his physics class, just trying to get through the last hour of this mediocre day. 

Truth be told, he’s having some difficulty keeping his eyes open. The kid is dead tired, for a lack of descriptors. His nightmares have seemed... different, lately. It isn’t that they’re more frequent, as they already happen just about every time his head hits his pillow each night; that’s not it at all. The content of the dreams itself is new and different, which is unusual, to say the least. And it’s made him pretty exhausted all week.

His teacher is droning on and on about gravity and inertia or some shit, and the annoying yellow lights overhead are buzzing obnoxiously in his ears, but he can’t help tuning it out. He’s much too distracted by his own thoughts and overall drowsiness. 

Thank god for being seated at the back of the class. At least he’s not being stared at or bothered by some of his particularly disruptive classmates. Plus, it’s easier to not pay attention without being caught this way. His fatigue and lack of interest are obscured by the rows of teenagers in front of him.

..he kind of wishes Larry sat in the back with him, though. He’s up front so that the teacher can “keep a closer eye on him” or something, because his focus problems are pretty bad. 

Speaking of which.. he wishes Larry would take him up on his offer to help when it comes to school stuff. He hates to see his best friend struggle so much, especially since he’s been having such a hard time for so long. He’s just so stubborn about it, always responding with a ruffle of Sal’s hair and a “Don’t sweat it, little dude.” 

It’s frustrating, but endearing. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Sal’s scattered thoughts are immediately put to a halt when the bell rings, indicating that school has finally come to an end, the dreariness of the day suddenly becoming a little more obsolete as his excitement for the weekend takes over. Larry turns around in his chair to look at Sal from across the room, the two boys making eye contact and grinning. Sal hastily grabs his things and shoves them in his backpack, then zips it up before slinging it over his shoulder. He stands up and maneuvers past all of his now bustling classmates to get to his best friend.

“You excited for this, Sally Face?” Larry asks, grinning as he grabs his belongings. 

“You bet your ass I am.” He smiles under his mask, his eyes squinting.

“Sweet. I can’t wait either, I’m fucking stoked, dude. I’ve been saving up a shit-ton of money so we can get a bunch of snacks for it and everything.” Larry stands up with his backpack over his shoulder and proceeds to ruffle Sal’s hair. 

Sal and Larry have been planning to binge the second season of a ghost-hunting series that they’ve been anticipating for months. It’s definitely fake and the acting is shit, but that’s what they love about it. It’s so full of cliches and awful cgi that they can’t help but giggle. 

“Ready to head out, little dude?” Larry asks, ruffling the shorter boy’s blue hair again.

“Duh, man. C’mon, I can’t wait any longer.” Sal snickers, playfully pushing Larry’s hand away. 

“Okay, okayyy, let’s go.” The taller one of the two chuckles. 

...Despite him being excited for this, Sal can’t shake the daze he was in. All the nightmares he’s been having have been really fucking with him. At least this little event’ll serve as a temporary distraction. Plus, he’ll be hanging out with his best friend, which is needed.

They begin to walk out of the dull, grungy classroom and into the hall, continuing their trek. The familiar vinyl floor tiles are found by Sal’s gaze, an incredibly tacky sight compared to the cool, pale walls of the school. Though the floor sticks out like a sore thumb, it’s pretty obscured by a tidal wave of students pouring out of their classrooms.

The school always seems so much more alive when it ends on Fridays. Everyone’s just rushing to get out of there, pushing and shoving, because every one of them have better places they’d rather be, Sal thinks, getting lost in his thoughts. Whether that’s intentional or not is up for debate.

“..and then Mrs. Goldwyn tripped! Hah, serves her right. Man, I love third period.” Larry chuckles.

Oh shit, is Larry talking?

“Hahah, yeah..” Sal responds, just hoping he didn’t seem too distracted. 

They both turn a corner, going down a hallway that leads to the front of the school, where the entrance to the outdoors is located.

“Yeah, it was hilarious. The kid she took the note from was laughing his ass off.” Larry continues, his amusement consistent in his voice. He seems not to notice Sal’s distant tone quite yet.

Sal nods again, feigning a soft smile under his mask. “That sounds like it was definitely something else.” He responds, trying to play along like he knows what the hell Larry is talking about. 

“Aaanyways,” Larry shrugs, adjusting his backpack as they pass they pass a few math classrooms, indicating that they’re halfway through the hall, “how was your day, man? You’ve been kinda quiet.” 

Oh, so he did catch on to Sal being a bit standoffish. Damn Larry and his perceptiveness.

“Oh,” Sal starts, slightly caught off-guard, “it was okay. Had an English test that I think I did well on,” He recalls, “I’ve just been really tired.” He pauses for a moment, as if contemplating what to say next. “Been having weird dreams.”

Larry frowns a little at that, his thick eyebrows furrowing in slight worry. He knows how shitty Sal’s dreams can be. “..Like what?” He asks, some hesitance in his voice.

Sal cringes a little at the question. Normally it’s fine, but.. he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about it in public, especially a densely populated area like this, despite knowing that nobody’s listening. After a second, he shakes his head a little. “I’ll tell you on our walk home. It’s... a lot.” He sighs.

“Gotcha..” Larry nods, his dark brown eyes reflecting his concern.

———

They make it to the sidewalk. They get a good ways away from the school, and Sal sighs heavily with relief as he adjusts his backpack straps. “Okay... so, yeah. My nightmares.”

“Right.” Larry responds, looking at him. 

Sal takes a deep breath, trying to relax into telling Larry about his nightmares. Larry’s the one person he can confide in when it comes to them; he doesn’t understand them, but he respects Sal about it. He doesn’t call him weird or crazy, he doesn’t look at him with uncomfortable pity, he just.. gets it. It makes Sal feel even luckier to be Larry’s best friend. But alas, his thoughts are getting sidetracked. 

Larry waits patiently, giving Sal a small, reassuring look. “You okay, Sally?”

Sal nods, taking another deep breath before starting his sentence. “I’ve been having sleep paralysis lately because of them.”

“Shit dude, sleep paralysis?” Larry looks at him with worried expectancy, pushing a strand of long, brown hair behind his ear. 

———

Sal remembers the nightmare that had elicited his sleep paralysis all too well. His dream started out simply enough; he and Larry were hanging out in the basement. Larry was painting away at his easel, and Sal was watching him from a distance, laying down on his back with his head hanging off the bed. 

Eventually, Larry stopped painting, and Sal’s line of sight was no longer obscured, as his friend had moved. The subject of Larry’s art was an old, dilapidated house. For whatever reason, the longer Sal stared at it, the more it seemed to warp and change; it looked like the canvas was getting bigger. This gauged so much of Sal’s attention that he didn’t even notice Larry sit down next to him.

When he did notice, his best friend was tenderly reaching towards the back of his head. His movements were slow and meticulous, and they almost made Sal feel safe, like he was in good hands. Though, that didn’t last nearly as long as he would’ve wanted. It was too late before Sal realized that he was reaching to unclasp his prosthetic. Larry unclasped it agonizingly slow, and while in the real world, Sal could’ve easily stopped him, he was rendered unable to do anything in his dream. Well, except cry. 

His reaction was nearly immediate, sitting up, crying and sobbing, grabbing at Larry’s wrists and begging him not to remove his prosthetic. But that didn’t do much. Once his artificial face hit the mattress, he was met with silent ridicule. Larry’s face adopted a disgusted expression; he grimaced, and his brows furrowed nigh instantaneously. His typically warm, kind eyes took on a cold and distant glare. He looked at Sal how he usually looks at Travis. He hated him. 

It may have been hazy, and, well, dreamlike, but it was harrowing. It felt too real. 

He blinked, and his surroundings quickly shifted to those of Larry’s painting. He was outside the decrepit house, standing on the cracked and filthy concrete path, leading to the front door. He could hear a voice, broken and garbled, commanding him to go inside. 

The aforementioned voice belonged to a staticky, colorful entity, spectral and unstable. His dream-self didn’t connect the dots, but it was none other than Jim Johnson. Sal felt extremely compelled to go inside the abandoned building, so he complied, despite the dread growing in his still shaky chest. He slowly made his way to the front porch of the building, his footsteps echoing on the concrete. As soon as Sal reached for the doorknob, he was thrown back into reality. 

He couldn’t blink, and he couldn’t move. Though, he could feel a great pressure on his chest, and the familiar wetness of steady tears falling down his face, getting into his hair. He stayed like that until his father came in around five hours later to wake him up for school.

———

Sal doesn’t mention the first half of his dream. Or that Larry’s weird phantom-ghost-guide-dad was the voice commanding him. He’s usually pretty open about his nightmares, but.. he wouldn’t want Larry to potentially feel guilty about the first half, or stress about the second half’s details. It’s better this way.

“Damn dude, I’m sorry... that’s rough.” Larry mumbles, “How long have you been having these kinds of nightmares?”

“I’m not sure.. a week? Maybe two?” Sal tries to recall. 

“Man, that’s like.. a while. At least it’s not as, like, gory, as your usual dreams?” He grimaces slightly, trying to find the right words.

“I guess so,” Sal shrugs glumly, “I just wish I could sleep better. And I wish I could understand why I’m having these dreams... it feels like it’s trying to tell me something, but I’m not sure what.” He sighs.

Larry nods, not quite understanding but not wanting to pry for an elaboration.

Sal nods back, just confirming that yeah, this is just as vague and confusing for him. Honestly, he’s desperate for an answer. He’s tried several times to talk to Jim in his nightmares, but it always throws him back into the waking world with a bright flash, sort of like the visions he has while awake. It’s frustrating, and really disorienting. He really needs an explanation, or maybe just a hint. The feeling that his nightmares are significant is almost suffocating. 

You know what? Maybe this show marathon’ll take his mind off of it. He hopes so.

They continue to walk. The apartments aren’t very far at all from their school, so they’re about halfway there at this point. The sky is gradually growing heavy and dark, the angering clouds threatening to rain on the people below.

Larry notices the dimming overcast light and puts his red hood over his head, just in case. Can’t let his luscious locks get frizzed out by the rain.

Sal looks over at him, breaking the odd silence that had settled over the two. “Dude, you might as well leave your hair uncovered. You’re overdue to wash that mess anyways.” He snickers.

Larry whips his head to glare at Sal, scoffing. “EXCUSE you, dude. My hair’s not a mess. It’s like, my best physical quality.” He huffs, then tightens his hood with its respective strings.

Sal can feel that his emotions are getting less muddled together. He laughs at his friend, starting to get cheered up. “Ooookay, Lar, whatever you say.”

Larry huffs, but it’s hard to pout when you just made your best friend laugh after a dull day, you know? He fights back his incoming smile as best he can, but ultimately loses with a chuckle. “Damn it, man, I’m trying to sulk over here! Tryin’ to get my angsty teen on.” He laughs.

Sal laughs again, his shoulders bouncing as he does so. His voice, despite being muffled, is very clearly devoid of the melancholy tone that it sported earlier. He’s feeling a good bit better now that Larry’s goofing off.

Soon after Sal’s laughter dies down, they reach the decrepit sidewalk that leads up to the apartments. The daunting figure of the building... actually seems pretty welcoming right now. It’s understandable, after the dreary day he’s had.

He has a feeling that today’s gonna end on a good note.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this seems a bit bland! Things are gonna kick off in the next chapter, I promise. This is a pretty loosely structured story and follows a main plot, so your input is more than welcome, whether it be to request a ship or to suggest an occurrence in the story. Let me know what you’d like to see happen in the upcoming chapters! ^^


End file.
